


Long Live the Queen

by thedishypele



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, basically everyone will be involved at some point, i just tagged the most important to the story, there are so many relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedishypele/pseuds/thedishypele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as the people can remember, The Condesce has ruled the throne over Alternia. Centuries of cruel reign, until the people can't take it no longer. In each corner of the kingdoms, schemes arise for fights to take back the throne. Everyone wants it, but only one can have it, and the lengths people will go for power may destroy everything. </p><p>Kingdomstuck because I love the AU and I've been reading too much Game of Thrones. POV changes each chapter. Explicit for later death/violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Live the Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Tell my past self a month ago that I would be posting a kingdomstuck fanfic and I would have laughed, then probably sob. Still, I hope people enjoy it. I love Game of Thrones and a lot of stuff in here is inspired by it. Enjoy!

Light filtered through the building as the sun began to rise in the early morning. It’s colors painted the skies a bright red and pink, quite a spectacular view for the few that awoke at such hours. The maid who stood on the castles balcony was always up, she made it her duty to do so, even if she didn’t have to.

“Normally I would bless the summer sun with the weather it has been giving us, but right now it just feels too gosh darn hot!” Feferis bubbly voice rang out, the heiress walking out to meet the maid. She wore a dress of pure silk, colored the shade of their empress; a dark red lined with white. It was gorgeous, and the heiress wore it with the grace any princess should. “What do you think? I pity the commoners who have to suffer though this, I really do.”

Jane replied with an embarrassing “Oh,” she never picked up on the grace of the royal family. “It is quite hot, but not that bad. Think about those in the south, they must have it worse. Pity the women living in the Desert of Mothers.”

Feferi leaned her cloth covered arms against the baloney railing, looking out at the coast and the waves that drifted lazily like it too felt the summer lag. “Oh, I don’t know, those women are strong. I wish to go there one day, actually. Perhaps when I’m empress, I can welcome them into the kingdom. I feel as if we could learn so much from such powerful, yet caring people.”

Jane smiled at that. Feferi as empress is all she and the people of the kingdoms could want. She was truly the perfect heiress; kind, sympathetic, yet just and fierce. Jane had faith in her, even if rising to the throne wasn’t as simple as it might be in other lands. The Empress couldn’t simply die like any other old fool in order for a rightful heiress to claim rule of the kingdoms. Here it was either kill or be killed, that’s how the empress had put it, and so far only killed is what the past heiresses and competitors to the throne have experienced. Jane didn’t speak about that around Feferi though, not anymore. As her name days came and passed, death for either her or her own ancestor grew nearer.

“I would love to go with you.” Jane replied, fingers scratching at the rocky surface her arms laid across. “I would love to go anywhere with you.” Or anyone. She didn’t say that though. She didn’t want to admit how desperate she was to leave Free Lands.

Feferi picked up on it though. Jane might have gone outside the walls of the Free Lands castle once, but not anytime she could remember. The maid had been told she was adopted when memories were just beginning to stay in her young mind. Her origins were never told, her parents unspoken of, but Jane knew her paler skin and blue eyes were proof she was not of blood with the bronze skinned and fuchsia eyed ladies of the royal family. All Jane did know is that she is considered a sister, but not an heiress, nor a bastard child. She was…something else completely. Something the Empress never said and Feferi didn’t know.

“One day, we can go anywhere you like, together.” The heiresses placed her darkly tanned hand over Janes pasty white one. “We can start what I never finished, and what you just picked up. The life sisters, healing the wounds of this city and all others.” She made it sound so possible, so inspiring and true. The possibility of that actually happening was so slim, but the maid wouldn’t say that, no sister would trample on the dreams on their younger sibling.

“The maid and witch of life. Songs will be sung about us all through the lands in a thousand tongues. The empress and the…girl- the sister.”

That obviously wasn’t the right choice of words, and Feferis face fell into a frown that didn’t suit her. “Jane…”

“Your Grace.” Jane replied bitterly, no longer trying to conceal her mood.

“Please, Jane. You know I don’t like that.” She responded. An anxious smile formed from her frown as she added, “you know what the Sylph use to say. Maybe I’m not the true heiress anyway.”

Jane knew exactly what she was alluding to, it was a story they had heard a million times over as children. The tale was told by the Sylph of Light, former healer in training and now the councilman and master healer for Free Lands. It was quite simple, yet very believable, or at least it was at their age. The Sylph always had a way with tales, and she could probably make the life of a common worker sound like the tale of a gallant knight. This one didn’t take much to catch their attention though, for it was about an heiress to the throne.

She was supposedly the heiress right before Feferi, a young girl who grew up to be just like her ancestor. She was growing up to be the spitting image of what the Empress was. That made people wary of her, and not many liked to stick by her side. They were afraid of her, as they were of the Empress. Yet, the people believed with so many similarities, she had to be the one to finally take the throne.

But then the heiress had a sister.

A fragile, young girl who was given the name Feferi. Suddenly, a weight lifted from her shoulders, for the current heiress lived with a secret; she never wanted the throne. It was supposed to be her duty to go up against the Empress, but she never wanted to, and now, she didn’t have to. With someone to take her spot, she waited and plotted until she was old enough, and disappeared to never be seen again. To this day, no one knows where she roams, or so the story goes. Some believe she still wanders the city, disguised as a commoner. Many say she lurks in the shadows, plotting to hunt her ancestor, only to give the throne to someone else. This was unthinkable in their culture, so it always seemed to shock them. It was silly, thinking back on it now.

“You are. The only sister you have is- me. I suppose. Those are tales for children, and you know that they are false.” Jane worried her bottom lip before sighing heavily. “Feferi, you know I’ve never fit into this family. It doesn’t make sense that the Empress would put the fork to so many innocents, but keep me.”

Feferi took a step back and shook her head. “Jane…you know I don’t know either…”

“But you must realize what you overheard yesterday could mean we could find out!” She didn’t realize it, but her voice was rising. “This is my one and only chance to get some answers about who I am! You can’t seriously fool me in thinking you aren’t curious as well. I might have gone along with it as a child, but I am almost ten and six now. Times have changed.”

Feferi kept her lips in a straight line, brow twitching slightly in her silent worry.

“Your GRACE. Please!”

“Oh- fine! You win! Just go back to my name, please. It feels weird to be called by such titles when you are family, and a friend.”

_More friend than family, _Jane thought sullenly. “Thank you, Feferi.” She replied instead.__

The Witch of Life smiled, though the anxiety she must be feeling was evident in her eyes. She stepped back and for a moment things were silent, neither wanting to speak.

“I’ll show you now, but you must go in alone. I don’t have there to be too much suspicion.” The heiress finally spoke. Jane felt her heart pull in sudden joy. She nodded, and when Feferi pulled back to return inside the castle walls, she followed right by her side.

The castle was remarkable, with long winding halls and decorations of red and white covering every inch. It was obvious the Empress was one for eccentrics, and she often added the fuchsia color of the Peixes royal family to the mix, though Jane thought the red made the two colors clash horribly. Still, she somehow made it work, and some bitter voice in the back of the maids head wished the colors didn’t manage to look so nice.

She spent most of her childhood worshipping the family and its fork sigil of white and red. Now, she wasn’t so sure. It no longer reminded her of the rising sun and snow of the north; gentle, loving things. It now bled blood and pale faces of little girls who had been lied to most of their life.

Guards that blocked the entrance did nothing to stop the girls as they passed their bulky bodies. Perhaps they gazed confused glances and thought illy of their actions, but neither refused their pass. Feferi flashed them a reassuring smile none-the-less as they slipped by to start their descent down winding stairs. There, things became darker and gloomier, as if the castle itself knew all too well where the two girls were headed. The walls and stairs were cracked, and some grew with mosses of strange colors Jane would rather not try to distinguish. Their bodies became shadows against the walls, lit by a torch or two that became more sparse as they wound downwards.

The last step came sooner than either would like, and Jane found herself with an overwhelming feeling of dread, and nerves. She wouldn’t let it show though, Feferi was being kind to let her down here. So, she swallowed down whatever last second regrets lingered, and walked past where Feferi had frozen in place and quickly asked, “Where is he?”

The heiress didn’t seem too sure, and even in the darkness Jane could make out the frown that on her face. When she spoke, it was still as chipper as it was this morning, though it felt hollow and the tone forced, “Most likely one of the farther back ones. That’s normally where new people are kept. I believe my ancestor said on the right side?”

Jane nodded even though it might have been hard to see in the dimly lit area. “I won’t be long.” She promised.

Feferi moved back onto the first step of the stairs, body moving half way as she slowly made her way to leave. “R-right.” She hesitated, and Jane didn’t move, watching her. She could tell something was bothering the witch.

“Feferi?”

“Yes?” She turned to face the girl quickly. Jane frowned at her eagerness.

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence was the only reply Jane got, and in that moment she wished she was a Mage with the power to read minds, because the look on Feferis face said nothing. _Did I say something wrong? Is she hurt?_ Jane thought, a slight crease in her eyebrows as she waited for the silence to end.

Feferis reply was quick and curt, “Be careful, Jane.” And with that, the heiress turned faster than she had to face Jane, and all the maid was left with was the sound of footsteps and the wave of a red and white dress before it slipped away behind the walls.

Then, once again, silence and nothing but the flickering light of a torch accompanied the maid. Jane chewed her bottom lip, unsure of what to make of that strange exchange. It seemed to haunt her mind as she turned to make her way into the cell room. It was unnerving.

The back right cell had a torch next to the door, a sign that someone was inside. The door was made of old, worn wood. It was a wonder why the prisoners didn’t try to escape more often. Maybe it wasn’t worth the try. Either the guards or the Empress would be their end, and a simple fork to the neck sounded better than slicing and dicing from a couple swords. Jane kept that image in mind while she undid the latch to the door and pushed it open.

Inside wasn’t any better than what had been seen from the outside. The walls were cracked, the floor hard and scattered with hay; to lay on or piss Jane wasn’t sure, and really didn’t want to know. The walls leaked and dripped water, and molds grew from the holes and broken away pieces of stone. It was awful, a retched sight and home for retched men. Yet, that’s not what Jane found inside.

Laying against the corner of wall, a man sat silently, eyes closed and chest rising and falling in an uncomfortable looking sleep. His neck stretched at an awkward angle to lean against his shoulder, and his back didn’t look like it was enjoying the stone that pressed against it. Still, he slept, blissfully unaware of anyone in the room. He didn’t look like the street rat Jane had been visioning. In fact, he had a clean cut of rich black hair, and a cloak and uniform that looked like it had been white from the neck to the ankle, only now it was tattered and almost every part caked in mud or dirt. Even his skin was a pasty white, much like Janes own. The sight was enough to make her take a step back, and feel the sharp rocks dig into Janes back as she leaned into them.

Feferi wasn’t lying. This was him.

Her father.

There he sat, the man who knew her past, her story, her life. It was almost too much.

Jane searched the visible parts of his clothing, but found no sigil. She couldn’t remember any family with just white as their color. So much for that. Lost in thought, Jane didn’t hear the stirring of the man until he was moving, legs stretching out and arms raising to rub at his eyes.

When they opened, Jane was gone.

She put the latch back and let out a heavy sigh. Looking at the door, a frown felt permanent on he face. Her father was trapped behind this door, and she couldn’t even talk to him. If she was seen with him, or if anyone even heard she talked with him, the Empress wouldn’t hesitate to kill him immediately. As for Jane, she might be saved because she was family.

Or so they say. Jane really understood it now. She began to climb the stairs again, her steps quick and fierce unlike how delicate and unsure they were coming down. It all made sense.

Her father was a prisoner. Why, she didn’t know. She will figure it out though, and she will have him released. They can’t hurt her, or at least they can’t kill her. The Empress needs her hostage.

 _Yes, that’s what I am. Not family. I am a prisoners daughter, and a hostage to the Empress,_ Jane thought. _I have been hostage since my fourth name day, and I will stop being one by my ten and sixth. I will not stay in this castle any longer and be a play thing for the queen._


End file.
